


Island: Marooned

by AppleL0V3R



Series: Stop n Go [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, No Plot/Plotless, Pirates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-24 22:14:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2598377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AppleL0V3R/pseuds/AppleL0V3R
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One-shot. Caught by the storms of the sea, Itachi finds himself with no one but a pissed off hostage, shipwrecked, and on an island he didn’t even know existed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Island: Marooned

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: If you’ve heard of it before, then it’s obviously not mine.

Sakura was going to murder someone. Anger seized her like a storm that refused to budge even for a moment; it grabbed hotly at her chest and pushed everything else in her mind aside. Most people don’t wake up angry enough to commit homicide, and she was no exception. However it kicked in so damn fast that the feeling swirled and only rallied further when she realized exactly  _why_ she was feeling this way. Now if only there was  _someone_  she could murder.

That would make her day.

What would make her day even more was if the person who got her into this whole bloody mess would be courteous enough to show up and stay still while she happily beat him. But she was kidding herself she thought  _that_  was going to happen. She snorted, and the dour though of that  _not happening_  made her storm of anger and indignation and every other fiery emotion expand and condense even further. As soon as she got her hands on him, she told herself, it didn’t have to be before she died. She didn’t mind haunting him until he committed suicide due to perceived insanity.

Now  _that_  would really make her day.

The pink-haired young woman rolled over onto her stomach and pushed herself away from the soft, almost-white sand. She glared at it, willing it to burn and not really caring that the beach had done nothing to her. At this point, her vicious temper didn’t care who was to blame for this predicament she was in, just that she was in it.

What Sakura wasn’t aware was that the person responsible for marooning her on this godforsaken island was actually within sight, she just hadn’t looked in the right direction to see him.

Uchiha Itachi was no happier with this situation than his hostage was. He’d had everything planned out and it had been going marvelously, until the heavens had decided that calm weather and bright blue, cloudless skies were no longer appealing. And so he had sailed right into an unexpected thunder storm, complete with large, crashing waves, fierce winds, icy rain, and of course, cackling lightening. So now, he was shipwrecked with a very pissed off spitfire of a young woman and no immediate plan to get back on track.

However, moping around and doing nothing wouldn’t get him any closer to getting off this island and completing his goal. So rather than sit in the sand and stare out at the calm horizon of blue sea against blue sky, he got up and started by locating the pink-haired young woman. He spotted her easily enough; she was sprawled halfway on her side and halfway on her back, her long hair spread about in a matted mess of tangles and sea salt and sand, her once-beautiful corset dress was in a similar state. A weaker man would have groaned, knowing that just because she wasn’t moving didn’t mean she was dead. And right then dead would have been ideal, if not for the fact that it undermined all the effort he put into kidnapping her.

But Itachi wasn’t a weaker man, he was one of the most infamous and dangerous pirates to ever sail the seven seas. And she was just a spoiled brat with an impressive temper. He’d had no trouble abducting her and keeping her from escaping, even if that cellar below deck had helped to secure and muffle the loud little thing. But now she was unbound and definitely much more agitated and he was the only target for her fury. It didn’t matter, he told himself, a pair of lungs and shrieking voice was not going to deter him. With that resolution firmly in mind, he approached her nonchalantly, not even pausing when  she rolled over onto her stomach and boosted herself onto her hands and knees. She paused like that before leaning back to settle on her hunches, her green eyes searching as she looked around herself. He stopped a mere meter off to her right side and waited for her to turn to him.

After a moment she did. She zeroed in him and in the next moment she was on her feet with a fire burning in her eyes. He took the time to marvel at it, not really caring that he was about to get an earful. Before she could start in he took a few more steps to close the distance, grabbing fistfuls of her torn dress as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

“You kidnapped me.” She snarled, angrily.

He watched her with languid eyes. “Abducted.”

Scowling, she tried to yank away. “Doesn’t matter!”

“Of course it does.” Itachi answered mildly. “You are not a child, you are a young woman.”

Green eyes blinked, uncertainty clouding her gaze as she seemed at a loss of how to respond to that. “I’m well aware of that.”

“Then stop acting like a child.” He reiterated. Clearly anger and their specific circumstances had hindered her unable to make the accurate deductions she was usually so swift to make.

Speaking of anger, hers was back tenfold now that she was not longer off balanced. “I am not  _acting_   _like a child_. You  _abducted_  me on my bloody  _wedding day_.” Seeing her in that dress had left him breathless with awe and anger.

“You’re not?” He narrowed his eyes at her thoughtfully, allowing his amusement at her anger to be seen. It served the little thing right. “This certainly looks like a temper tantrum to me.” She growled low in her throat. At least she was done screeching as loud as she could, that meant she was done with all her bolstering and was just plan angry. He could deal with an angry Sakura, years of experience had taught him how. “As for your wedding day.” He deliberately paused. “Well, it was  _yours_.”

She scowled impressively, but he was hardly perturbed. “What the  _bloody hell_  is that supposed mean?”

He leaned down, giving her one of his rare devious looks. And she immediately backpedaled, squeaking faintly as she did so. “Because your hand – and every other part of you – is mine.” And that was all the reason he needed.


End file.
